


Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic

by misanthrobot (augmentalize)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Secrets in Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 19:42:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12464538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/augmentalize/pseuds/misanthrobot
Summary: Reaper is taking some time off to be Gabriel Reyes before he forgets how, somehow managing to land the position of bodyguard to one Lúcio Corriera dos Santos, notorious revolutionary and international superstar. Intending to keep his identity a secret until he can take advantage of his position, he somehow finds himself falling into a casual relationship with Lúcio and enjoying it immensely.Lúcio decides to take it upon himself to hire Gabriel Reyes as his bodyguard, knowing he's putting himself in a position of both danger and advantage: As long as he knows where Reaper is, he can keep an eye on him, but at risk to himself. Problem is, once they're out of their rocky start, he finds he likes spending time with Gabriel. And then it escalates. And now they're here in Miami, on a date.





	Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic

If he’s honest, Gabe kind of hates himself for this, just a little bit more than usual.

He'd taken up bodyguard work on the side because it gave him time to be Gabriel Reyes instead of just Reaper. It kept him from completely losing himself, from becoming just a mad hivemind of nanotech with a lost identity and a chip on his shoulder so heavy it may as well be a cinderblock. What use, after all, was getting the revenge he'd wanted, if he forgot what he did it all for in the first place? It helped that he could keep Talon from interfering too much in his personal life if he also chalked it up to having an alias they could work with. He didn't expect this little side-project to end up like it did, with him sitting across from Lúcio Correia dos Santos in a tiny bakery in Miami, watching him shovel _pan con bistec_ into his mouth, sunglasses pushed up and balanced on crown of his head.

By all rights, this shouldn't be satisfying to watch. Lúcio eats far too enthusiastically, dripping fried onions and potato sticks onto his plate with every bite he takes. He's so excited about how good it tastes that he keeps trying to talk with his mouth full. This is the second time Gabe has had to hand him his can of soda to keep him from choking. This shouldn't be cute, shouldn't give him a warm, pleased feeling that's half satisfaction and half affection. In spite of celebrity status and a loving family, Lúcio is a common courtesy disaster.

And yet…

"So this stuff's made from _mate_? It tastes more like cream soda or something..."

"Chew with your mouth closed, Santos. You're getting food everywhere." Lúcio pauses, finishes chewing, swallows, and grins at him.

"Kinda weird, you calling me by my last name, considering..." Lúcio waggles his eyebrows and Gabriel leans back in his chair and raises a single eyebrow in return. Lúcio's eyebrows keep right on waggling, smile slowly growing smug until Gabe kicks him under the table. He could leave a dent in the kid's shin if he wanted. His boots are steel-toe to whatever the hell Lúcio's prosthetics are made of, so it'd take some effort, but instead it's barely a tap.

 _A love tap_ , he thinks to himself, and then turns his face away and snorts.

"You're blushing," Lúcio points out mildly, chomping down the last of his sandwich and washing it down with the rest of his soda. Gabe refuses to take the bait, even as he catches Lúcio grinning at him out of the corner of his eye. He can't blush, even when he's full on that residual death energy that he's got little choice else to call 'souls', despite being able to easily pluck it up from dead omnics of all things. His body doesn't have enough blood to pump, enough of a pulse to make it work. He doesn't look as washed out as he usually does when he's taking advantage of his powers as Reaper, but his blushing days are long behind him, and thank god for that.

"You've got food in your teeth," he says instead, and Lúcio pulls out a compact mirror to check because, as Gabriel has been amused to find out, he can be pretty vain. His looks carefully, scowls at Gabe once he realizes the other man was lying to him, playing to his concern about personal appearance. Still, fair is fair. He'd started the teasing and he eventually huffs and clicks the compact closed.

"How'd you find out about this place anyway? Seems pretty local to me. You look it up or something?"

"I had an assignment here a few years back. Came down here with an old co-worker. Just as messy an eater as you are," he says, smirking when Lúcio flusters. Gabe tries not to feel fond, pushes that strange warmth down the second it threatens to bubble up. He is _not_ going to feel wistful about a trip he took with McCree of all people, is not going to get all nostalgic over anything having to do with his old days in Blackwatch. The fact that they'd had a nice little outing while they were here doesn't distract from the fact that they'd come here to kill several arms traffickers and confiscate their difficult to track weaponry. _Bad guys_ , as McCree would call them, but it didn't really matter to Gabe at the time and it doesn't matter to him now. A mission was a mission. Orders were orders. At the end of the day, he knew he'd done the right thing. It didn't take a genius to see that.

 _But they didn't even thank you for your hard work when the both of you got back to base_ , his mind supplies in Reaper's sinister, mechanical tone.

 _But I knew they wouldn't_ , he insists to himself. Blackwatch was always thankless work, but it hadn’t mattered when he’d been the one steering, before the U.N. and corporate interest sunk their claws into the whole operation.

He looks at Lúcio from across the table and feels warm when the other man notices his stare and smiles warmly back at him. This was just supposed to be a side job, and even then he'd gone into it with half a mind to take the kid for a ransom. He looks down into Lúcio's eyes and realizes not for the first time that his mission mindset isn't working here. 

It's agitating.

They leave the bakery after paying, Lúcio picking up the tab while Reyes handles the tip, the only way they've managed to work it out so that both parties are satisfied. Gabe isn't surprised when Lúcio decides to go the long way back to their hotel. Wearing a beanie and an obnoxiously large pair of sunglasses, dreads free of their usual accessories and noticeable tattoo covered by three-quarter sleeves, Lúcio hardly sticks out in Miami. He has a way of walking when he wants to go unnoticed that's nothing like the way he conducts himself in concerts, with fans, or with the press. He seems calmer, walking with a slight slouch that makes him look even shorter than he already is, though he still bobs his head to a song only he can hear. All that energy has to go somewhere.

They make it to the hotel fifteen minutes later than they could have if they'd taken a more direct route, and Gabe grumbles about it because he decided to go out in all black today, like he does every day, in spite of knowing how hot and humid it gets here. Lúcio laughs at him and slips happily into the air-conditioned lobby of the hotel when Gabe holds the door for him, giving him a sly look over his shoulder as Gabe steps in himself.

"What a gentleman," he teases.

"Just get inside."

They head for the elevator, and despite all the rumors of Lúcio's staying in the penthouse suite at the top, Gabe hits the button for the sixth floor as Lúcio slouches against the wall of the elevator and fans himself by plucking at the front of his shirt.

It had been the smartest thing to do with how many operatives were being sent after Lúcio on a regular basis. A bait and switch wouldn't last too long as misdirection if anyone competent actually decided to storm the building. All they would have to do is find a member of the staff that heard Mr. Santos and his bodyguard talking about their closer view of the pool to figure out that they weren't staying in the penthouse suite on the top floor. Which why the room that Lúcio opens up for them is actually across the hall from any of the ones with a pool view. Gabriel remembers pulling the same kind of shit with Morrison and Amari back in the old days, being cramped in a tiny room and-- damn.

This was the problem with trying to cling to being Reyes. Too much good to take with the bad. Usually, it's not a problem. Usually, he slips back into Reaper after a week, once whatever guard job he's doing is done. It's easier to do things in the Reaper persona, easier to smother down what good he did in Overwatch under the terrible shit he'd been ordered to do in Blackwatch. This thing with Lúcio has lasted two months and he's made no progress on his desire to take revenge on Overwatch, on Jack and Ana. He could have just shot Lúcio, except he tried and hadn't been able to bring himself to do it. The kid is too bright and beautiful to just snuff out like that. As Reaper, behind the safety of a mask and absolved of all responsibility, he relishes in it. Snuffing out something sparkling and pretty satisfies the clawing, jealous beast that lives in his head, that says _you could have been this,_ _were_ _this, glittering and beautiful, once_.

At the start, he'd considered just taking him, first for a ransom and then just to do it. Personal reasons. He could have. Reaper could have taken him away and stashed him somewhere, but the only truly reliable place he knew was a Talon base, and that was off the table.

As soon as they're in the room, Lúcio shuts the door behind him, strips his shirt off and sighs happily.

"Not that I don't like the heat, but _man_ is it good to be somewhere cool. Feels like we've been walking for ages," he says, twisting around and scanning the ceiling so he can temporarily position himself right under an air vent.

"I don't wanna hear you complaining when you're the one who wanted to take in the sights," says Gabe. He tosses his hoodie onto a hook behind the door and turns to stare at the other man.

Lúcio is... He looks nice. Gabe isn't really sure how to describe it, would be able to flatter the other man endlessly if he wasn't so horrendously out of practice. Instead he's stuck staring like a bit of an idiot while Lúcio gives him a patient and sympathetic look that makes him both want to wither in place and go to Lúcio, while at the same time making Gabe sneer outwardly and roll his eyes.

"It's okay to look," Lúcio says casually, then flops onto the bed on his back, knees curled around the end of the mattress. Gabe feels his shoulders draw up, hackles raising. The kid has such a fuckin’ ego on him and Gabe tears his eyes away more out of spite than anything. He busies himself by searching the drawers for his lounge clothes, moving into the bathroom to change and stepping out once he's done. Lúcio perks up for a moment then frowns at his clothing choices--or maybe at the fact that he has clothing on at all--and looks up at him from his place on the bed.

"It's only just past noon, man. Don't tell me you're already done for the day," he says, voice edging toward a whine. Gabe shrugs and goes to sit down on the other side of the bed, away from where Lúcio has decided to sprawl. There would be two beds in this room if Lúcio was willing to put in the effort to fold out the couch, but after what they've been doing together, it seems pointless. Instead, Lúcio makes sad little doe eyes at him until Gabe shoves him back by way of a hand on his face and rolls his eyes as Lúcio  pushes past his hand and clings to him, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt.

"C'moooon..."

"You're lucky I even let you stay out this long. Or did you forget--" He turns over to grab the remote and the e-cig off the nightstand on his side. He flicks on the TV and presses the button on the cig, taking a long drag and blowing out a plume of vapor that he uses to mask the smoke that curls out of his mouth when he really needs to vent some of the dark mist permeating his body. It feels good to let a little of himself go like that, to watch it mix into the vapor, curl on itself and vanish. "--that both Vishkar and Talon are trying to get at you."

Lúcio quiets at that, clings to Gabe's shirt a little tighter before thinking better of what he's doing and letting it go. Gabe's won the argument, but he isn't sure if he's pleased about it. A month or so back, he would have delighted in making Lúcio's smile fall off his face so quickly. Now, he can't quite carry the maliciousness when he actually _does_ want to be kind to Lúcio, and so he sighs and reaches down to squeeze the shorter man’s shoulder. He can't reassure more than that, not without an outright lie.

He knows that Talon is persistent, especially since he's still technically helping run the entire operation. If they’re persistent, it’s because he and Akande have taught them to be. They've been reaching out to him, trying to get Reaper on a kidnapping op of all things. He hasn't bothered answering back. If they've discovered his not-very-secret pastime, they either trust his judgement or don't want to risk interfering with something so delicate when it could benefit them in the long run.

Vishkar isn't likely to get off Lúcio's back either, not until they have not only their sonic amplification technology back, but Lúcio's own Crossfade tech as well. They've reached out to Talon recently to try and get assistance, but with Akande in charge all they get is a refusal. If Talon can't have the technology for itself, it's unlikely they'll get it for Vishkar. Besides, and this is the worst of what Gabriel knows, Talon wants _Lúcio_ too.

He looks back and Lúcio's face is still downcast and Gabe sighs like his life is the most filled with problems it's ever been and that he would love nothing more than to not have to deal with this. He pushes himself up the bed, pulling away from Lúcio in the process, until his back is braced against the pillows and he's sitting up.

"C'mere," he says, and pats his lap. Lúcio looks up and him, at first with confusion, then with a realization that brings a flush to the younger man’s face. It's cute, but Gabe doesn't really want Lúcio to get hung up on what he's asking. "Well don't just fuckin' stare. Get over here."

\---

Lúcio is determined to be morose for at least five more minutes before Gabriel starts moving and offers his lap. Lúcio can't stay upset after that, even with the weight of his mortality hanging over him. It’s not like he doesn’t know people want to kill him. He has plans and contingencies, fail safes built into his legs and his suit and the rest of his tech to either override to keep him from dying, or to fry themselves when his pulse stops. He just doesn’t want to think about it when he doesn’t have to, would rather focus on all the good he can do in the world.

As far as something to distract goes, Gabe's thighs are fucking amazing. He could probably flex and crush someone's pelvis to dust, and that really shouldn’t turn Lúcio on as much as it does. It's enough to get him to actually react, crawling easily across the bed and positioning himself so that he's straddling Gabe's knees.

"You've got a lot of lap to sit in," Lúcio says, and he knows his smile is reaching his eyes like his hands are reaching for Gabe's thighs. It's a flaw of his, he thinks, that he's this eager to please when it comes to this man. He hasn't known Gabriel Reyes long and he knows the other man has been lying through his teeth about who he is.

Who he is, at least sometimes, is Reaper.

While the U.N. isn't inclined to pay much attention to his bodyguard, Lúcio knows for a fact that Soldier:76 is chomping at the bit because he knows just as much as Lúcio does. In fact, he probably knows more. They used to be friends after all. Maybe Morrison is right not to trust the other man, to remind Lúcio that Reaper is ' _a goddamn mercenary, Santos, and one day someone'll pay him high enough and he'll shoot you right in the back_ '. 

Still, Lúcio had told Winston that he could handle this, that he could use their proximity to keep an eye on Reaper and keep him out of Overwatch's missions. As much as 76 would like to lead, as much as he’d like to say he’s suited, it's not something anyone is inclined to let him do outside of small ops. Lúcio knows for a fact that Tracer would go spare if 76 even inched toward leading Overwatch again, and knowing who he is and how he botched it last time, Lúcio is inclined to believe she’d be in the right to. What Overwatch needs now is someone divorced from the military complex, and you can’t get much more divorced than being a genetically-engineered gorilla scientist from a globalist Moon colony. So once he had Winston's permission, there wasn't much else to stop him from doing what he wanted.

(And much as he likes Winston, he probably would have done it even without the permission.)

Lúcio isn't part of the Overwatch old guard, is barely part of the organization himself, what with his touring, the PETRAS Act, and the fact that he's barely on half the U.N.'s good side as it is; being a revolutionary who travels quite a bit tends to make human rights violators nervous. Half the UN thinks a big deal is being made out of nothing, half are terrified he'll start uprisings in their own countries, and all of them are trying to balance public image with corporate interests. Reaper, however, doesn't have any real reason to hate him. If Lúcio has gotten in Reaper’s way during past missions, Gabe is evidently not taking it personally.

"You're not sitting right," Gabe growls at him, snapping him out of his reverie yet again, but his grousing obviously half-hearted and mostly just because Lúcio had been staring with little explanation as to why.

"I'll get to it, babe. Don't worry so much."

Gabe spreads his legs a little wider, making Lúcio spread his in turn but also giving him more to touch, to indulge himself--the both of them, really--a little more. Lúcio kneads the muscle of Gabriel's legs, slides down them until his head is being mantled on either side by firm, muscular flesh. He nuzzles his face against the muscle of one thick thigh and lets the fabric rasp against his cheek, then turns his head and bites down hard enough for Gabe to feel it through the cloth. The other man hisses above him, but out of the corner of his eye, Lúcio can see his hands clench in the sheets. He pulls away after that, goes on squeezing and rubbing until he can see the way Gabe's lounge pants swell as his cock hardens. It's endearing how a man who ordinarily terrifies the masses with his alter ego can get it up just from having his thighs fondled. Lúcio can't hold back a cheeky grin. He tries to mask it by hiding it with another bite, but Gabe has already caught him out, scowling and flustering even as he puts a hand on Lúcio's face and shoves him back.

"Don't look so fucking smug."

"Sorry," says Lúcio, not sorry in the least and continuing to look smug, even with Gabe's massive palm squishing his nose. He opens his mouth and makes a lazy attempt to bite, teeth dragging across callused skin, then licks a broad stripe up the palm to the tips of two fingers and laps them into his mouth, suckling lazily. Gabe hisses, stares at him with his eyes lidded and Lúcio can feel thick fingers tangle in his shirt and tug. Even as he pulls himself up to settle in Gabe's lap, Lúcio refuses to let go of the other man's fingers, sucking at them messy and eager until Gabe swears softly and yanks him up the rest of the way. He pulls his fingers away from Lúcio's mouth with a little 'pop' and wipes them on the bedspread. It seems a little ungrateful to Lúcio, but understandable. Having spit all over your fingers is only hot for so long.

" _Você é muito lindo_ ," Lúcio murmurs, leaning in close and brushing their mouths together. Gabe gives him a look, then after a few seconds pass, continues to give him a look.

He's run a revolution and faced down Vishkar's best and brightest and come out smiling. He’s sold out stadiums and has openly disparaged half-a-dozen political monsters. A look from Gabriel makes Lúcio edge just slightly on skittishness, reminds him that the man is unpredictable. When it comes down to it, everyone is.

"Are we... not gonna do something?” he asks, pulling back from Gabe’s face and raising an eyebrow.

Lúcio likes to consider himself good at reading people, but when he wants to, Gabe can be a brick wall. Lúcio isn't sure about Gabriel Reyes, Commander of Blackwatch. The old guard never really talks about him back at HQ, but that kind of past probably has something to do with why the man can make himself so perfectly opaque when he's inclined. Gabe's eyes soften a little, just enough to make him look warm in a way that makes Lúcio weak in his little cybernetic knees.

"Yeah," he murmurs, and his voice is a soft whisper against Lúcio's lips. "Yeah, we can do something. Go get yourself cleaned up."

To say that Lúcio rushes to the bathroom is an understatement. If Gabe wants him clean, that means he’s planning something fun. Lúcio is more than willing to put in the effort for that kind of thing, letting his mind wander as he strips out of his clothes for a shower and pulls the shower attachments from under the sink. He’d gotten them in a fit of guilty optimism, but he doesn’t feel too bad once he has everything set up, making sure the nozzle pressure isn’t too high. If it give Gabriel the opportunity to take him to pieces, Lúcio is more than willing to go through all the effort it takes to clean himself up, inside and out.

\---

Less than an hour later, Lúcio is crushing a pillow to his chest and biting into it just to muffle his noises. Amused, Gabe pulls his mouth off the other man’s cock and licks at his lips as Lúcio whines helplessly into the cotton and pulls his face up from it. His cheeks are dark with a flush and while his dreads are tied up and out of the way with a stray lock, they’re steadily slipping out of their almost-bun. Gabe rubs at Lúcio’s inner thighs, feels them tremble in the cup of his palm while the man beneath him manages to muster up a scowl before letting himself flop back into the pillows behind him.

“Are you ever gonna let me finish, man?”

“It wouldn’t kill you to learn a little patience.”

“Says y-- _ohmygod!_ ” Lúcio shoves his face into the pillow again to muffle a noise as Reyes squeezes at the base of his cock and strokes up firmly, milking him for more precum. It slides down Lúcio’s shaft and over Gabe’s knuckles and he has to keep a firm hand on Lúcio’s hip, otherwise the other man is liable to arch right off the bed. It’s probably the third time he’s gotten Lúcio close without actually letting him go over the edge, fourth if he counts just now.

Lúcio gasps and swears for another few seconds before looking down at Gabriel again and reaching for him with a shaky hand. His fingertips are bitten at for his trouble, but eventually Gabe acquiesces and allows Lúcio to brush his fingers across the buzzed hair on the side of his head before they slip into the thick curls at the top. He tugs, light but impatient, trying to get more of Gabe’s mouth on him. Gabriel only chuckles and strokes him again, tight and firm, and laughs softly as Lúcio chokes on a breath and makes something that might sound like a warbly plea for more.

“Can’t hear you, Santos.”

“That… That’s kinda the point? Neighbors, man. It’s just manners.” Lúcio manages a smile and a wink, and Gabe realizes that he hasn’t done nearly enough to render him totally incoherent. When Gabe leans down and swallows him back into his mouth and then further still, Lúcio’s loud enough to render the pillow almost irrelevant. He pulls away for a moment to tongue the sensitive skin just under the head of Lúcio’s cock, toying with the foreskin as the corner of his mouth ticks up when Lúcio clings tighter to the pillow and bites down to muffle a _whimper_. Gabriel isn’t sure what he likes more, the desperate way Lúcio tries to quiet himself, or the way he gets when he’s free to be loud.

“Lube. Nightstand on your left. Open the top drawer and feel around the underside.” Lúcio peeks down at him and Gabe regrettably moves his hand off the other man’s dick so that he can stretch over and start rummaging around. There’s the telltale sound of peeling tape as Lúcio pulls the lube out, settling back down only to curl forward and poke Gabe in the head with it.

“You know, you don’t gotta hide this like it’s a bomb or something,” he says, letting Gabe take the tube from him, pop the cap and slick his fingers. “It’s just lube.”

“Last thing we need is some nosey paparazzi creating another scandal. You’ve got more than enough as it is. Keep your legs spread.” Lúcio laughs from where he’s settled, the sound growing shaky as Gabe rubs against the rim of his hole with the pads of his slick finger.

“Yes _sir_.” He licks his lips, pulls his lower one between his teeth as he feels Gabriel start to push in the first finger.

\---

He's long since stopped worrying about what it means, the fact that he can take this so easily that there's hardly any discomfort at the start. Gabe is good at this, and if he were more of an ass and interested in blowing his not-really-cover, Lúcio would ask him what he did back in the old days that made him so well-versed at finger-fucking someone open. The way he does it doesn’t even make it seem like it’s a prelude. The way he does it feels like he’s trying to make Lúcio cum just on his fingers, and maybe he is, but Lúcio’s a little too far gone to consider things that deeply right now. Instead, he just breathes and pushes back against Gabe's finger, thicker than his own and buried to the knuckle, taking it easily enough that Gabe sees fit to start slowly pumping and curling it.

“Doin’ good, kid.” Lúcio laughs and it makes Reyes’ motions feel all the more strange inside him.

“ _Please_ don't call me 'kid’ when you're fuckin’ me, man.” He can’t help but burst out in a fit of chuckles again at the look on Gabe’s face, the sudden shock that mellows out into mild amusement.

“Fair enough,” Gabe says, and pulls his finger out just enough that the pad of it catches on the rim as he meets it with a second finger and carefully starts to slide both of them in. He can feel Lúcio tense, watches as his abdomen jumps, as his cock twitches.

“You’ve gotta relax,” he coos, and it takes a bit but eventually Lúcio is breathing and pushing back against his fingers, sucking them in deeper every time he relaxes enough to stop. He’s doing it exactly as Gabe’s instructed every time they’ve messed around, so good at following instructions despite that being the antithesis of what he does, of who he is.

“Feel good?”

“It’s only two fingers,” Lúcio says, voice breathy but cocky, hitching as Gabe rubs the pads of his fingers against his prostate.

“This coming from the man who had to be taught how to do this.”

“Re-taught,” Lúcio corrects, even as he grunts softly and his cock flexes and dribbles more precum. Gabe stops at that, raises an eyebrow and stills his hand. Lúcio looks at him and whines in the back of his throat, nudging at him with a foot until he starts up again, pace slower and more relaxed. Casual. It’s ridiculous.

“So how long’s it been for you before me?”

“Jealous?” Lúcio asks, teasing. Jealousy isn’t exactly a turn-on, but if he’s got to stop this to explain things to Gabe, then that’s what has to happen. He's not willing to fuck in spite of Gabe's insecurity. Instead of a confirmation or denial, all Gabe gives him is a one-shouldered shrug.

“Curious.”

“Little over two years,” says Lúcio. “I was working on the album, and now I have a tour. Not exactly the best time to start trying out relationships or having flings.”

Gabe doesn’t say anything, just whistles lowly and pulls his fingers back to the rim of Lúcio’s hole, where Lúcio can feel him getting ready to slide in a third.

“And this?” says Gabe, pointing to himself and Lúcio in a back and forth with his clean hand as he slips his fingers in again. Lúcio breathes, relaxes more easily now and reaches down to run his hands across the side of Gabe’s head again, smiling and laughing softly.

“I’m just as surprised as you are.”

\---

The pace picks up after that, and Gabe relishes the feel of Lúcio’s hole clenching around his fingers when he does him just right, the way that he’s pulled just that fraction of a bit deeper.

“Could make you cum like this,” he murmurs, crooking his fingers again just to hear Lúcio’s breath hitch. “Just around my fingers, you’re so ready for it. Kept you on the edge for so long, pushing you over would be easy.”

Lúcio looks at him with eyes hazy and unfocused. Gabe can see how his throat moves as he swallows and nods mindlessly, and can't find it in him to blame the other man at all. He can't even begin to calculate how long they've been at this, too wrapped up in Lúcio to bother caring.

It's always like this with him. If Gabe isn't surprisingly wrapped up in his music, he's tied up in conversation or in a warm, companionable silence. There are times when he wonders if he would still make the choices he made if Lúcio were on his mind then like he is now, and then he dismisses those thoughts easily. No use dwelling on the past when he has the luxury to ignore it for a moment, he thinks to himself. Then he curls his fingers again just so he can hear Lúcio whine high in the back of his throat.

“Do you want it?”

“Please,” says Lúcio, propping himself up on his elbows so he can just look at Gabe properly.

“With just fingers?” Lúcio gives him a crooked grin.

“I’m good with whatever you wanna give me, Reyes.”

“Now who’s on last name basis?”

Even when he’s close to fucked-out, Lúcio still finds it in him to laugh softly and nudge Gabe with a foot. Just slightly quicker, still sluggish because watching Lúcio and how long he can go for makes even _him_ tired sometimes, Gabe grabs that foot and brings it to his mouth.

He presses a kiss to the ball of Lúcio’s ankle, not even minding the slight coolness of the aluminum prosthetic against his mouth. Lúcio inhales sharply, and Gabe takes his moment off-guard to crook his fingers just slightly, turning that little gasp into a drawn out cry as Lúcio cums across his stomach and spasms against the mattress. Gabriel can't help but feel smug and satisfied at the rhythmic clench and unclench he can feel around his fingers, keeps curling them until Lúcio is trying to push his free foot against the mattress and wiggle back. Gabe lets him go, pulls his fingers out and scoots in, petting at the other man’s thighs with broad strokes of his palms as Lúcio gets his breathing back in order. He smears lube all over one thigh, and when Lúcio tugs at the hem of his shirt, leans himself over the other man and presses their mouths together.

Lúcio doesn’t even cringe at the muted taste of himself like Gabe was expecting. Instead, he just smiles into the kiss and tugs Gabe down further. A little vindictively, Gabe settles his weight on top of Lúcio until the younger man makes a theatrical wheezing noise and digs his fingers into Gabe’s ribs in retribution. It’s only then that Gabe pushes himself a little more upward, settling on his elbows.

“N-Not sure I’ll ever get used to how intense those are,” Lúcio says, staring at the ceiling. Gabe doesn’t respond, only keeps petting him all over until Lúcio reaches up and laces his fingers together being Gabriel’s neck, pulling him down into another lazy, satisfied kiss. “You now?”

Lúcio frowns when Gabe shakes his head, holding to him just a little tighter. There’s a flash of a sympathetic look and Gabe catches it and scowls at the other man before Lúcio realizes what his face is doing and stops himself.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“You _know_ I don’t like the pity look.” Lúcio rolls his eyes and nudges their faces together, pressing his mouth to Gabe’s chin, then settling their foreheads together.

“I’ve _told_ you, it’s not a pity look. It’s a ‘ _I wish I could give as good as I get_ ’ look. But if you’re not up for it, you _know_ I don’t mind.” Gabe sighs and presses another kiss to Lúcio’s mouth.

“I know,” he breathes against the other man’s mouth. There’s a gentle pause between them, and Gabe just listens to the way they breathes together. It’s not in sync, and Gabe knows that his tendency to breathe is fake and leftover from the days when he was alive in the traditional sense. Still…

It’s nice.

“You pulled me down on purpose,” he says eventually, opening his eyes to look down at Lúcio. The other man is practically radiating amusement at Gabe’s realization.

“Yeah.”

“And now I have your cum on my shirt.”

The grin on Lúcio’s face could put the sun to shame.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea if they sell Materva in Brazil, but it's super common here in Miami, and that's what Lúcio is drinking in the story. While both these characters aren't Cuban, it's pretty much impossible to visit here without eating Cuban cuisine. 
> 
> Also, Gabe vapes because I refuse to believe that tobacco is still a widely used product in the future, except outside of very niche circles. Like whatever circle McCree is part of that encourages him to smoke cigars and dress like a cowboy in the year of our lord 2076.


End file.
